


Just friends

by Blackfirm



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackfirm/pseuds/Blackfirm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione was screwed. She knew it. No matter what, she had no clue what to do though. - Falling in love with one of your best friends sucks as Hermione knows first hand now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just friends

Hermione was screwed. She knew it. No matter what, she had no clue what to do though. Both Harry and Ron strayed off with their respective girlfriends all the time, and what had she done? She'd fallen head over heels for one of them. One of her best friends for fuck's sake! Running her hands through her bushy hair, Hermione continued pacing around her dorm room. She was alone there – the only reason why she'd chosen to go up this early. It was unbearable for her to stay in the common room, and see him with her. It drove her nuts because she couldn't continue like this. Not only did everyone think she was even more annoying than normally, but the way she reacted to him was pathetic. Whenever he'd touch her, accidentally of course, she'd blush. Or shudder. Or stutter. She'd act like a complete idiot! She had tried to read up on books on how to get rid of those feelings, but no book had helped so far. It had only gotten worse because she focused more on him. It wasn't even his looks that attracted her the most – though she had to admit that the Quidditch training had given him a fine body. It was everything. Just him, all of him. The way he'd talk, sounding so silly sometimes. The way he'd look at her whenever she gave one of her dreaded lectures. The way he passionately hated Malfoy – whenever something bad happened it was the ferret boy's fault. He had been in her life the last couple of years, always been there.

She had learned to recognize – and love – what he looked like when he started zoning off. His expression would change whenever they'd studied for a long time. He'd stare into the fire with glassy eyes, most likely thinking about some new insane Quidditch moves. His whole body would shift, appearing more relaxed, and she wouldn't be able to stop smiling about it. She was barely able to watch him playing Quidditch because of his crazy stunts. Yet, she was just as happy as him when they won another match. Afterwards, it was pure pain though. She would never be the one running up to him to snog him senseless. Sighing, Hermione sat down on her bed. After a second, she fell back, and her hair spread out around her head, looking like a dark halo. She stretched out, her arms reaching over the other side of the bed. She had to give up, there was no hope. He was happy with another girl. Lately, his happiness had been so much more important to her than her own happiness. Not that he'd ever see her as anything else than his bushy-haired bookworm of a friend. Tears stung in her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. Why could he not see her as anything else? She had grown into her looks over the last few years. In their fourth year, everyone had been surprised what a fine figure she had. How nice she looked with a bit of make-up and her hair fixed. After that evening, she had tried to look nicer. Her hair was almost always braided or in a ponytail, and clearly didn't look as bushy anymore. She still didn't wear much make-up, but she didn't really need it, did she?

Biting her lower lip, Hermione focused her thoughts on him again. They'd been through so much – the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius, the Triwizard Tournament, entailing Cedric's death and the return of Voldemort. Then last year, there had been Umbridge and the campaign of the ministry against Harry. Hermione rubbed her cheeks, but the constant stream of tears didn't stop. By Merlin, she had to get a grip on herself. She didn't want to be this weak. Grabbing her wand, she flicked it at the door, locking it and placing a silencing charm on the room. She screamed. Muggle psychologists always said that screaming helped, but it only seemed to make the pain in her heart worse. Maybe he could never see her as more because they knew each other for so long already? But he knew her just as long. How was she supposed to let go of her feelings when he was so close to her? She was supposed to focus on helping Harry, but she couldn't. Her feelings, her needs, everything became too much. Much too much. Gripping her wand tighter, her knuckles turning white, she sat up again. She wanted to hit something, hurt someone, break stuff. Her thoughts started going in circles, and she felt like she was on the verge of losing it, when she heard a frantic knock on the door. It brought her back to the present, cleared up her mind. Since it could only be one of the other girls, she removed the silencing charm and unlocked the door without hesitation. She closed the curtains of her bed instead. No one had to know what a mess she was – she didn't need the sympathy of anyone. Especially not those girls who liked nothing better than some gossip. She laid down on her stomach and buried her face in her pillows, trying to ignore the person entering.

"Hermione?" His voice made her freeze. Fuck. What was she supposed to do now? She looked as if she'd cried a long time, and he'd ask why. She couldn't tell him it was because of him. How the fuck did he get in the girls' dorm anyways? The stairs were enchanted to turn into a slide whenever a boy tried to pass. She heard her curtains being drawn, but refused to look up. Figuring out that he waited for some kind of life sign though, she huffed. He looked down on her, eyebrows raised, not really knowing what to make of that. Cautiously, he sat down next to her, ignoring that he'd come up to her for a reason. Her feelings were more important right now, because he had never seen Hermione like this before. Even without seeing her face, he knew something was wrong. Her hair was a mess, like she'd run her hands through it several times, and her clothes looked disheveled. Hesitantly, he moved his hand on her back and slowly rubbed it.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?", he asked softly. He wasn't really good at comforting people, but Hermione was his best friend. Getting her into a better mood would ultimately make him happier as well. Whenever she was sad, he'd feel bad. Whenever she was hurt, he'd want to take revenge on the person that inflicted the pain. Sadly, it was mostly his and the other idiot's fault. And they called themselves her best friends! He tried his best to not hurt her, but failed so often. Hermione still hadn't answered his question, hadn't even shown that she'd heard him.

"Hermione, please, you're scaring me. Talk to me!" His voice was a sincere whisper. Hermione took a deep breath and slowly sat up, crossing her legs. She let her head hang down, so that her hair still made it impossible for him to see her face, but she faced him. When she spoke, her voice was shaking and barely audible.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you. Why'd you come up here? How the bloody hell did you get up here?" She looked at his hand, resting on her knee. She wished he'd keep his hands to himself, but at the same time, wanted to be touched by him more often. It was pulling her apart. As a response to her questions he shook his head.

"Doesn't really matter. You're more important – what's wrong?" His other hand moved under her chin and pushed her head up. He wanted her to look at him. She didn't resist him, and her brown sad eyes locked with his. She couldn't get herself to say what was on her mind – she just couldn't destroy their friendship.

"Can't tell you", she breathed, tears falling down her cheeks again. He stared at her, shocked. Never, the whole time he knew her, had he seen her like this. It was even worse than he'd first thought. She looked like she'd cried all the time she'd been up here. Hermione had left them to their studying earlier than normally, and he didn't know why. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes glassy, the tears hadn't stopped. It broke his heart to see her like this. Putting his arms around her, he pulled her into a hug.

"Did someone hurt you? What happened? You have to tell me, Hermione. I'll kill whoever made you cry like this." The words spilled quickly from his mouth, and the irony of everything made Hermione laugh bitterly. It wasn't funny. She shook her head, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes. It felt so good to be hugged by him. His arms tightened around her when she, again, refused to answer his question. He was so oblivious.

"Why?", he asked instead. He had to get some answers of her. If Malfoy had done this to her, he'd be dead by the next morning. She was probably just worried about him getting expelled.

"Because…" Shaking her head again, she moved away from him and leaned against the head board of her bed. "Why'd you come up here?" Sighing, he grimaced and took her appearance in one more time.

"I'd prefer to talk about you, but since you're so stubborn…" His words trailed off, and she shrugged. "Well. We had an argument. Really bad one." Now, he looked pained. He shifted his gaze from her face down to his hands and tried to ignore the pain in his chest.

"Something had ticked her off, and I don't even know what. She… She threw the necklace at me. You know… the one I'd gotten her during the summer. She was yelling all this nasty stuff. I've never seen her like that. Bloody hell. I mean… we had arguments before, but nothing like _this_." Shaking his head, he ran his hand through his hair and looked back at her. There was something in her eyes, he'd never seen there before. He blinked, and waited for her to say something. Hermione's throat was too tight to say anything. She moved over to him, kneeling next to him, and pulled him into a hug. He noticed that she didn't look this strong, but put his arms around her again as well. Her lips brushed against his ear when she whispered.

"Sorry, I'm speechless." He chuckled at her words and pulled her even closer. "It only took me six years to get those words from you." She snorted and hit his shoulder lightly. Afterwards, she chuckled, too, and their eyes locked again. She wanted nothing more than tell him how she felt about him, but that would never happen. She knew it, so she said the only right thing.

"You'll make up with her. You'll always make up with her. That's love. You fight, and then you make up again." He sighed and nodded slowly, frowning though.

"I'm just tired of all the fighting. I thought this would be fun, that it would be easy. I mean… I think it would be easier to have a relationship with you than with her. And that's certainly not right, is it?" Her expression changed – she looked hurt, her eyes filled up with tears again.

"No, that's not what I meant", he quickly tried to correct himself, but she shook her head and got up from the bed. She walked around the room, trembling and trying to find a something to do with her hands. After a while, she just stood there, looking lost. He groaned and wanted to smack himself. Hard.

"No… I understand", she said quietly, closing her eyes. "Please, can you go? I… can't help you with her. With your _relationship_. Just… talk to her." She ran her hands through her hair and looked down to her feet – she desperately wanted him to leave. However, her last words made him realize something. It hit him like a bludger, and for a moment he could do nothing but gape at her.

"Hermione…" He got up, taking her face into his hands, making her look up to him. "Did you cry because of _me_?" Her eyes widened in horror at his words. Her hands moved up to his chest to push him away, but he didn't move at all. She was strong, but not that strong.

"Just go!" she ordered, trying to get away from him now. She panicked because she never wanted him to know. She never wanted him to find out about her feelings for him. Struck by her forceful reaction, he stepped backwards.

"I can't just go. This is… important. I… We…" He seemed to be at a loss of words – another bitter laugh escaped for Hermione's mouth. She shook her head and pointed at the door while sitting down on her bed again. Looking like a beaten puppy, he gazed back at her one more time, but then shook his head and left.

**Author's Note:**

> Ron or Harry? You tell me (:


End file.
